


Corrupted and Unbroken

by aliceoflegend



Series: Chosen but Unclaimed [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con References, Stockholm Syndrome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:57:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliceoflegend/pseuds/aliceoflegend





	Corrupted and Unbroken

As he wakes up the first thing his mind screams is, _RUN_. Over and over, _RUN, RUN, RUN, DON'T STOP JUST RUN._

 

And so, Stiles picks up his aching body and does just that, he doesn't care that he's half naked or dirty and he doesn't stop to get dressed. He just starts to run- stumbling at first and then faster and faster, he runs as quick and as far as he can, he doesn’t stop till he reaches the hospital. Stiles doesn’t even know what he’s doing there or how long it took him to get there, because all he can focus on is what he’s trying not to think about.

Stiles doesn’t want to think about what just happened to him, tries not to to feel the warmth of Peter’s hands on him , of the slimy sensation of unmentionables sliding down his leg and pooling in his shoe, the burn of parts he’s never thought about before or the sting of claw marks on his neck and sides. He tries not to think about how he looks, how out of breath he is or how dirty and sweaty, tries not to look anyone in the eyes as he walks past them, but Stiles doesn’t turn as his name is called, he can't- he has to keep running. Stiles doesn’t stop until he’s at Lydia’s bedside, where he sits down next to her and just watches her breathing in and out, in and out, until suddenly there’s a sharp prick in the side of his neck and the world fuzzes out again and turns to grey.

When Stiles wakes up _, this time,_ it’s more of a gradual thing, he can hear his father’s snores and the comfort of blankets wrapped loosely around his body and the smell of his axe body soap in the air and he breathes it in, with a sigh of relief, _it was just a nightmare_ he thinks, _it was all just a nightmare_. And with a smile on his face he drifts off to sleep again, naturally for the first time he can remember, and this time the blackness isn’t so scary it’s warm and nice and normal, and that’s how it’s suppose to be.

The next thing Stiles knows for sure is that he’s dreaming. That being said, Stiles also knows that just because you’re dreaming, it doesn’t make it any less real.

Stiles can feel Peter inside of him, ripping him apart again, and it’s different this time because instead of being on his stomach he’s on his back and Stiles legs are wrapped tight around Peter, while he holds Stiles’ arms above his head and Stiles is moaning like a slut at the feel of the alpha’s knot swelling inside of him. Nodding in agreement as Peter tells him what a _good boy he’s being, how pretty he is, and beautiful Stiles’ skin is spread out underneath Peter,_ and all Stiles can do is lean into Peter’s caresses and his whispering. All he _wants_ to do is arch into his alpha because Stiles likes it, he likes being held down and fucked open, loves the feel of Peter’s cock swelling inside of him, moves into it like a love starved puppy being pet for the first time.

All Stiles wants now is to touch Peter back, to make him happy, so he tries to pull his arms out of Peter’s grip, but the alpha doesn’t like that and growls at Stiles before tightening his hold on Stiles’ wrists and uses the other to slap his across the face. _You’re being a bad boy Stiles,_ Peter says as his eyes start to glow red above him and he trusts harder into Stiles _and you know what happens to bad boys,_ the alpha’s teeth start to lengthen and his words start to get more and more careful, more prononsted, _They. Get. Punished._

And then Peter’s mouth is opening impossibly wide, filled with more teeth then a shark’s mouth, making Stiles whimper and look away, turning his head to the side and squeezing his eyes shut and waits for those too sharp teeth to rip his throat out but it never comes, instead his head rattles as Peter starts to shake him.

“STILES! STILES! Wake up, son! Wake up you’re safe now.” And when Stiles turns his head and opens his eyes it’s not Peter’s glowing red orbs he sees, but his father’s pale blue worried ones. “It was just a dream Stiles, you’re safe now.” He says. Stiles looks around he realizes that he’s not in his room, he’s in the hospital, and it’s not Peter holding him down, it’s the restraints connected to the hospital bed. His father is leaning over him, sitting in the chair next to him holding his hand and Ms. McCall is standing in the corner with her mouth in a comically wide O and blinking out tears of her eyes.

“Why- Why am I tied down?” The words spilled out of Stiles’ mouth by their own accord, and once he starts he can’t seem to stop, “Did something happen? Why am I in the hospital? What’s going on? Why is Ms. McCall here, is Scott okay? Is Allison? Why am I strapped down?” And Stiles starts to panic, when no one answers him and the answers all start to flood back to him. The forest, Peter, the-  _no that didn't happen, It was just a nightmare, it didn't happen._

"Stiles, Look at me, Look at me, Stiles!" And Stiles turns his attention away from the noise in his head and toward his father. "Stiles, you're having a panic attack, I need you to calm down Stiles, son you need to breathe." And that's when Stiles realizes that he is indeed hyperventilating, but he can't stop, he's trapped, trapped just like he was under Peter's body and he's pulling at his hands, _he has to get free, get away, has to get away._ And suddenly he is free and he's rubbing his wrists, and rocking back an forth in his bed. Arms wrapped around his legs tight to his body, _huh, when did that happen?_

 

"Stiles, Honey, are you okay?" _That's Ms. McCall talking now_ , Stiles thinks, _when did she get here?_ That's before things start to get clearer, she was here when he woke up, he's in the Hospital, he was assaulted, by Peter-Fucking-Hale and, _they drugged me,_ he thought. _How did I get here?_

  
Stiles must have asked that question out loud because he dad was answering it, "Stiles, you showed up here last night, Don't you remember?" Stiles heard his father's voice shake, he'd never heard it shake like that before. "You've been gone for two days Stiles. Don't you remember? "  His father repeats, and Stiles hear the unasked questions, _Where have you_ _been? Who took you?_ and the undertone of panicked worry in his father's voice that scares Stiles more then anything else, his father was his rock his voice never shook, never wavered. It's his father's wavering tone that makes up Stiles' mind about telling the truth. His father would only think he was crazy, saying that catatonic, insane, _werewolf,_ Peter Hale had kidnapped and tourered and _raped_ him _._ Just thinking it made him feel crazy, but the ache of his body reminded him that it was anything but pretend.

What would his father do if he found out the truth? Stiles knew that answer was something bad. The truth would get them nowhere but committed while Peter ripped his dad a new one... _And wasn't that a bad choice of words,_ Stiles thought as he shifted painfully under his father's glaze.

"Stiles, Do you know what happened to you?" His father asked, that treacherous shake in his voice stronger then before.

"No Dad, I don't remember." Stiles' knew this was the only way. In this case answers were _not_ what his father was looking for, not really. And so Stiles did what he did best lately, he lied and asked, "What happened?"

He saw his father take a huge breath out, mouth forming silent words, open and closing without sound over and over again, unable to form the words, that Stiles already knew. _Rape, Assault, Beating, Tazreing, Kiddnapping._ His father kept mouthing words unheard until Ms. McCall came over and put a hand on his arm. "Maybe I should take it from here? Why don't you go get Stiles some soda," She turned and looked at Stiles," You'd like that wouldn't you, sweetie?" All Stiles could do was nod his head and watch as his father's shoulders slumpped down in defeat and started to stand.

 

"I'll be just down the hall if you need me okay Son?" Stiles nodded again trying not to flinch as his father's heavy hand brushed his arm. He knew he had failed when his dad jerked his hand away as if he had been burned. Stiles felt more then heard his Dad's sudden intake of breath, like he was going to say something, before his hand which had been hovering in the air fell uselessly down and he turned toward the door. "I'll be right down the hall." He repeated to Stiles as he reached the door,"If you need me."

 

When his father left the room he must have lost some time because there was Ms. McCall in front of him wearing a worried expression. "Stiles," she asked, "Do you know why you're here? In the hospital?" She looked ready to cry too, which just strenghtened his reslove. He could remember Peter's dead nurse in the trunk, the offer of the bite, and the look in his eyes when stiles said no. He could feel the forest floor beneath him and the smell of burnt wood and old blood. The feel of Peter's hands on him, holding him down, Shaking him. Stiles held himself tighter. Thought about all these things as he looked into Melissa McCall's worried eyes and said:

 

"No I don't remember anything, nothing at all."

 


End file.
